


Red String (Of Fate and Balloons)

by Snedic



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, it chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28790466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snedic/pseuds/Snedic
Summary: You've been haunted by the ghost of someone you never new. Yet it feels like they've always been there. It finally shows itself to you. Short and sweet. A SecrIT Santa gift for @cCownfuckinAround!
Relationships: Pennywise (IT)/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Red String (Of Fate and Balloons)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ClownfuckinAround](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClownfuckinAround/gifts).



> So I originally made the little GIF animation you see at the end then this ficlet to go with it. I'm rusty at both digital drawing and writing so I hope you like it!

It’d been years. Years since you had last been down here. When you were a kid you loved to come down to this creek, to kick up rocks and see what was hidden underneath. Or to lay on the cool ground and listen to the water running. Running. Ah, that thing you should probably be doing. But you find that you just can’t seem to help yourself from continuing on. There’s a screaming in your gut telling you everything is wrong. The Barrens had been a strange place as long as you had known it, but now you couldn’t stay away.

  
Recently things seemed to get stranger and stranger everyday. Flashes of red in the corner of your eye, horrible and aweing dreams about this strange creature. You swore there were nights when you could smell it. The smell of burnt sugar, so sweet and strong it would turn your stomach. Other nights you felt eyes on you, and sometimes those eyes would appear. Like a cat in the night. Yellow and so damn bright. An animal? You would ask yourself, but as soon as your hand would dart to the table side lamp the hovering lights would disappear. Your eyes are playing tricks on you, you’ve been working too hard, you just need some sleep. That’s all. Nothing weird could possibly be going on. Nothing so wondrous or terrifying would ever target you. You’ve almost got yourself convinced. Almost is the key word here, since you are, after all, walking back into the watering hole you once prowled in your younger days. You weren’t sure what brought you here. Just a feeling. For a moment you thought of the red string of fate, unsure why. Such tales always delighted you, until recently that is. The idea of fate had been taunting you.

  
Last week, so alone, silently pleading for- well- you weren’t sure. You pleaded to the creature to come back to your dreams. You needed to see it again. You wanted to feel it. It was that night you felt a hand. A hand that first slowly caressed your turned back. Rubbing an attempt at soothing circles into your tired body. The hand settled over your side and rested there. A hot, sweet smelling breath tickled your neck. Every hair on your body raised in alarm. You wanted to be here with this mystery being so badly yet this new and sudden experience had greatly alarmed you. After what felt like hours, you were still frozen in place, the weight of the being pressed against you unwavering. You faded into sleep, shocked eyes drooping into slumber with the creature still by your side.  
Everything had stopped since then, it was like the crest before a fall. The eye of a hurricane.

  
And this, this brings you to the whispering creek of your childhood. You knew it would be here. You just knew it. You came upon the roughest part of the waters, with large rocks jutting into every direction. The water ran much louder here, navigating through the terrain. That’s when you spotted it, not the creature, but a red string. It’s not odd to find a lost toy or rogue piece of garbage blown down here. You reached for the string, gripping tightly. It had that ribbed texture of a balloon string. A tug proved it to be quite stuck, leading right under the stretch of rocks. So you got to work pulling it up, carefully maneuvering between the sharp edges of the crag and avoiding the slippery pockets of algae between them. After some time you made it to the other side of the shore, red string wrapped around your hand. Pulling still, it tore up through the sand and dirt of the shore. With one last tug the string pulled taught, caught onto something in the brush. The unsettling in your stomach grew, uncharted territory ahead of you and nothing to turn back to. Your hand slowly reached, pushing aside tall grass and brambles. A low grumble echoed over the creak as he leaned in. “Hello, deary.”

https://imgur.com/da5Sy8W 


End file.
